Interview from : http://metromix.chicagotribune.com
Setzer’s
guitar still twangin’
Rockabilly fame sets stage for his other musical paths,
like swing
By Chrissie Dickinson
One of the premier gear-poppin' daddies of guitar, Brian Setzer, 44, has found that following his own musical path has always been the best route to take.
"You gotta have faith in yourself," he says, his gravelly voice still bearing the distinctive stamp of his native Long Island. "Geez, you could listen to people all day long. If I'd listened to people, I wouldn't have started the Stray Cats, or the big band. If you listen to people's suggestions, you're gonna wind up in the [toilet]."
The pompadoured singer-guitarist laughs over the phone, adding a gritty humor to his far more colorful expletive for "toilet."
Setzer laughs easily and often, for good reason. The man who first hit the charts in the early '80s as part of the rockabilly trio the Stray Cats has evolved into a swing bandleader of genuine skill. The Brian Setzer Orchestra performs its second annual Christmas extravaganza Saturday at House of Blues.
Setzer's no slouch when it comes to instrumentation. His 18-piece big band includes four trombones, four trumpets, guitar, bass, drums and two background vocalists. The whole shebang travels in four buses. "It's the nice, easy way to go," he says. "Traveling with that many people is a hoot, but I'm glad I don't have to organize it."
His original inspiration for doing big band music took root early on, when a young Setzer became enamored of the theme music for a TV icon.
"The idea for this big band bug got in my head when I used to watch the old 'Tonight Show,' the old one with Johnny Carson," he says. "I used to hear all those parts and loved it. And I'd imagine playing guitar with that band. They asked the Stray Cats, when `Rock This Town' was a big hit, if we wanted to play on 'The Tonight Show' and use Doc [Severinsen's] big band. And that's when the lightbulb went on. It was the first time I actually thought about putting the two together, peanut butter and jelly. And then after years I finally said, `I've gotta try this.'."
Setzer's 2002 Christmas CD, "Boogie Woogie Christmas," found him backed by his orchestra in full-blown swing arrangements.
Recording a seasonal release, he points out, ain't as easy as it seems.
"It's a tall order," he says. "A lot of people just think it's a throwaway to do a Christmas record. For me it took a lot of thought. You're taking a song that was sung by Bing Crosby, which is just a classic. How are you gonna take a song like that and make it sound like it's yours? How are you gonna own it? How can I take `Winter Wonderland' and make it rock? And I wanted to also find stuff people hadn't heard, like `Boogie Woogie Santa Claus.'."
On his Christmas CD, Setzer spins Tchaikovsky's "The Nutcracker Suite" into a seven-minute swing raveup. Another highlight is Setzer's duet on "Baby It's Cold Outside" with actress, vocalist and sex symbol Ann-Margret. Enamored by the idea of recording with the sultry singer, Setzer admits to some initial trepidation when he decided to ring the diva up.
"I was trying to think, who's the coolest chick out there?" he recalls. "I thought, `I wonder if Ann-Margret would even consider it? Does she even know who I am?' I said, `I'm gonna call her, she could hang up the phone on me for all I know.'."
His worries were unfounded.
"She was really happy to have been asked. She came in with her little dog in a basket. It was fantastic," he laughs. "What was very sweet is that she was very unsure. She asked, `Are you sure that's good enough?' She was a nice, nice lady."
From rockabilly to big band, Setzer's career has focused on resuscitating and interpreting older forms of American music. He's encountered the stereotyping that comes with tackling past genres, but has paid it little mind.
"People tried to kill this big band before it got off the ground," he says. "Promoters and club owners wouldn't book it. Then the swing revival came, and they made that a caricature, and that came and went, and they said, `OK, Setzer's dead now.'."
He laughs his hearty Long Island laugh. "And now here we are, 12 years later, so thanks for coming to my shows."
Originally published December 3, 2003.
Chrissie Dickinson is a Chicago freelance writer.